The Plight of Redemption: New Beginnings
by cam-brierley
Summary: Unhappy with the trajectory of her future, Sith-in-training Rakav abandons the cruel Sith Academy on Korriban to pursue purer pastures with the Jedi on Tython. But she isn't their usual Padawan, and they're keen to use this to their advantage to gain an upper hand in the war against the Empire. - Short Story (unfinished) set in the Star Wars: The Old Republic world (no spoilers!)


Even after the extensive shuttle journey, the whole scenario still felt surreal. Rakav had expected to find reasoning and clarity in her time travelling alone, but the words bouncing around the confines of her mind remained as alien as ever.

_I'm going to Tython. I'm going to Tython. I'm going to Tython. _

A year ago the thought would have made her feel sick. Just a few weeks ago speaking the words aloud would have gotten her killed. Now she was barreling through the planet's atmosphere, feeling trepidation like never before. In the next few hours, she would learn if she'd made the greatest decision of her life, or a fatal mistake.

Serving as the ancient home of the Jedi, Tython was a planet just as revered by their Order as Korriban was by the Sith. It was a beacon of everything they stood for: peace, justice and serenity.

And so far during her descent, Rakav had witnessed just these traits reflected in the planet. Patches of luscious greenery appeared in clusters around the surface, interwoven by sparkling streams and sprawling flatlands, and she found her anxiety lessening in the face of the natural beauty. Rakav's face was glued to the single window in the cramped seating area her entire journey to the surface. The light streamed into her vision and she welcomed it. For too long her life had been dominated by veils of black and red: dark robes, and darker minds. Blood. Death.

The hiss of the landing gear extending below her signalled the long journey was mercifully at an end. The rear of the shuttle lifted as a walkway extended, overwhelming the shuttle with sunlight, the calming hum of nature's cycle and the occasional chirp of wildlife. Rakav felt her features lift stiffly into a smile - her first in months. _This_ was living, she remembered. This was the galaxy as it was meant to be.

Exiting the shuttle and trekking through the woodlands of Tython felt like walking through a dream - one that she was terrified she'd wake up from. Knowing nothing but pain and anguish lately, it felt like she had to cup happiness to her chest like it was contraband, lest it be snatched away from her.

Yet, with each _crunch_ she made through the forest floor, she felt some pressure ease from her shoulders and neck at the realization that this could be her new reality. Her surroundings teemed with life, a far removal from the barren sands of Korriban she'd come accustomed to, where a tempestuous wind was the closest thing to a companion she had found. Here, things felt different, and she was about to see the reason why.

Rising high above the edge of the forest, the Jedi temple loomed dominantly. Dozens of domed buildings, crested in a golden hue that shone radiantly in the day's sun, sprouted from a massive cylindrical center. The design was simple, but elegant.

Staring at the temple, Rakav couldn't help but compare this feeling to how she'd felt approaching the Sith academy on Korriban for the first time many months before. The pyramid's approach, complete with its choking dusts and dwarfing size, had instilled a similar sense of awe in Rakav, though it had been laced with terror. The Sith had done well to make their academy reflect the practises taught within.

As Rakav exited the wall of the thick pines, she began to reminisce on how much had gone into putting her in this situation. Her perilous desertion from Korriban. The even more treacherous mission of convincing the troopers on the Imperial Fleet that she would be meeting her master on Alderaan. And finally, battling through the cold tundras of Alderaan to cross from the Empire's territory into the Republic's without drawing attention from the planet's warring nobles or deadly bestiary.

All of the struggle had been driving her towards this moment: when she could look up at the Jedi temple and feel the thrill of finally being able to influence the galaxy for good.

Her escorts from the flight, two silent Republic troopers, guided her up the set of stairs at the mouth of the Jedi Temple and Rakav took her first step inside.

Despite the lavish architecture twirling around the temple's atrium, it was second on Rakav's mind after the Jedi Masters, Knights and Padawans around her. Nearly all of those passing through the room took a full second to stop and stare at her before moving on. Their expressions were peculiar. It wasn't quite surprise: more a mix between curiosity and puzzlement.

There had been Jedi in the temple grounds of course, but she assumed the hooded robe she was wearing prevented them from seeing her as these did. Now that she was inside and in close proximity, there was no hiding from them.

Rakav was a Sith Pureblood.

Her orange skin, the two tendrils that extended down from her jaw and her bright orange eyes distinguished her as such. The Sith Purebloods were a race heralding from Korriban. Infamously, they filled the ranks of the Sith more than any other species in the galaxy. It was thought that most were born with a natural affinity to the darkness. Destined to be evil, if you would.

And yet - as Rakav knew she would have to prove to the Jedi - she was not evil. At least, not anymore.

Throughout the trials of the Sith, she had never enjoyed the abhorrent tasks she was put through. Conformity had only been born in her out of fear and habit. Faced with the choice of obedience or death, most children born into Sith families did the same.

As she grew, however, her free will grew with her, and she began to put thought into what she did. That was when she began to feel repulsed at everything she'd done to appease the cruel Sith Masters. Refusing to be defined by the malevolent lineage of her race, she had vowed to choose peace and kindness from that moment onwards.

Trying her best to ignore the wide eyes around her, Rakav followed her escort through the atrium. Midway through, something clicked inside her, and she decided not to fear their looks. Fear was a Sith's vice. Reaching up, she grasped her hood and threw it back over her head, removing the shadow shrouding her features. With it fell the shadows of a past life - one of subterfuge and deception. She was a Pureblood _and_ a just person, and her time of having to hide either one of these qualities was over.

Rakav's destination was a great set of double doors on the second floor of the atrium. The trooper to her left stepped forward and knocked. After several seconds the doors swung open, though no one stood immediately in front of it. Spread in an even semi-circle at the back of the room was an array of deep, low-down chairs. In each but one sat a Jedi Master, their brown robes flowing over the chairs to make them appear almost molded in.

Rakav took her place in the centre of the room, flanked by Jedi in each corner of her vision like a captured prisoner on a battlefield.

A human female in a trimmed down set of robes was the first to speak.

"Rakav, let us first thank you for the bravery it took to seek us out. We know you have endured much."

Choosing not to speak, Rakav simply bowed towards the Jedi. She continued.

"In leaving the Sith and rejecting the darkness, you have taken your first step towards redemption. But the path is long, and only those with a strong commitment can stay the course."

"I will not stray, my masters. I have sacrificed much for this, and I am ready to give my life to the Jedi Order."

"Being a Jedi means letting go of everything you used to be, giving yourself entirely to the will of the Force. Are you sure you're ready to banish your emotions in the pursuit of spreading peace?" another Master asked, to the right of the first woman.

"I am ready. What I used to be...that is in the past. I see differently now, and recognize what greed and anger do to the galaxy. I want to stop their influence, which is why I sought you out. Becoming part of their rot was never something I wished for."

A general nod rippled between the masters.

"We were informed you trained with the Sith for seven months," A Kel-Dor Master to her left observed.

"Why did you leave them? Why now?"

Rakav swallowed. She had hoped to be given some more time before having to address this particular issue, and preferably not to such a large audience. Nevertheless, she understood their suspicion; the Sith would do anything to strike the Jedi, and extending an olive branch of peace masked as poison fit right into their playbook.

"The ways of the Sith never sat well with me, but in the beginning of my training I learned to ignore my inner protests and obeyed. I stood idle as acolytes were tortured in front of me, and administered more pain than I ever thought possible. I was revolted by what I was doing, but I didn't have the strength to do anything about it.

"The Sith teach you to use your negative emotions and turn them into strength, so with each act of cruelty I tried to turn my guilt into hate. Hatred at myself...at others...wherever I could find room for it. I thought, if enough time passed, I could kill my dissent by bludgeoning it out of me. The whole process was tearing me apart, but I couldn't admit my confliction to any of the overseers; I'd seen them kill acolytes for far less.

"Eventually things went too far, and I snapped. The overseers sent us acolytes into a Sith tomb to recover some dead master or another's _final scriptures_, and as I reached the notes an acolyte…"

Rakav stopped. Was he really an acolyte she was friends with?

"An acolyte I'd spoken to a few times reached them as well. We stared at each other before I said I wouldn't kill him over the scriptures - that we could return to the overseers with half the pages each."

She shook her head subconsciously. She'd replayed the scene with Alturo many times in the weeks since, but his callousness still filled her with bile.

"He didn't even wait to hear me out before charging at me with his weapon raised. I fought him off long enough to get clear of the chamber, then turned and ran for it. He barely even chased me; those scriptures were everything to him, but I kept running until I cleared the tomb. Seeing someone I'd have almost called a friend turn on me like I was _nothing_...it was the selfish realization I needed to acknowledge just how evil the group I was set to join was. I knew then that no matter what I did, I could never feel like one of them."

"After that, I kept on running. I didn't know where I was going, but I knew I wanted to leave Korriban. Once I reached the set of landing strips near the Academy I just kept low and waited for a Sith to board their shuttle. Then I stowed away as the cargo was brought on board and, as the shuttle pulled into its destination and I was able to get out, realized I had made it to the Imperial fleet."

Despite her long monologue, the Masters around her all sat patiently, some leaning in to listen more intently. In their eyes she saw interest, compassion and even empathy: all values she'd not seen once in the Sith.

"From there, my decision was made instantly. I was never going back to Korriban. Or the Sith. Or the Empire. And although I acted out of terror to flee in the first place, I decided to finally do some good with my life. The best place I thought I could accomplish that...was with you."

Her story drew a cloak of silence across the Council for several seconds as they each considered what she'd said. She was strong enough in the Force to be aware of them probing inside her, scrutinizing her words to see if they were spiked with deceit. But Rakav knew they needn't bother; even if she wanted to hoodwink them, a collection of the most powerful Jedi in the galaxy was about the hardest target she could go for.

She noticed, even as the Jedi Council silently interrogated her, that telling the truth had more her feel more powerful than she ever had by wielding anger and hatred with the Sith. The revelation filled her with peace, as she knew she had done the right thing by coming here.

The quiet was broken by the same woman who had started speaking, whom Rakav determined to be the Council's leader.

"It is a core philosophy of ours that no soul is beyond redemption. To be Jedi is to see the good in everyone, and yours is shown in full by your plight to come here. Therefore, we will authorize your training as a Padawan. You will train with Master Kerro Lin, and we shall remember through you that all beings can be brought back into the light, no matter their past transgressions. Seek Master Lin in his office. And may the force be with you, Padawan Rakav."

Born anew, Rakav took a knee at the feet of the masters. To the one who'd welcomed her into the Order she said.

"To you and the Council, I will forever owe myself, master..."

The older woman picked up on her sentence.

"Shan."

"Thank you for your trust, Master Shan."

Reporting to Master Kerro Lin's office later that day, Rakav saw that he was a short Twi'lek male of approximately middle age. He had blue skin like many of his species and caring eyes that she felt soften when she entered, a smile forming on his lips.

"Padawan!" he exclaimed with just the slightest hint of an accent, his voice warm and lively.

"Welcome to Tython and the Jedi order. My name is Master Kerro Lin," he bowed gracefully, "and it shall be my great honor to oversee your training."

He came closer to Rakav, placing a hand on her shoulders.

"I can only imagine what you went through to reach us." he said, in little more than a whisper, as if she was so fragile that even speaking too loudly might undo her.

"Know that your pain will be soothed here - matured until we are able to cast it away entirely. There is no emotion, there is peace. As the Force flows indiscriminately through all things, we Jedi must see that way too. I hope you have felt welcomed in our temple so far."

"Yes, master. Everyone is very kind."

Lin breathed deeply.

"Yes. When you allow the force into your soul, you will see a part of yourself in everyone. It is easy, then, to welcome each being you meet."

"I am glad to be here." Rakav admitted. Master Lin heard the rawness in her voice; the slight catching in her throat. The same comforting hand extended back out.

"In the Jedi Order, it is no stain to show weakness or hurt. We encourage this, for coming to know these feelings will help you overcome them. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge."

Rakav felt emotional after such a warm welcome, both from the Jedi Council and her new master. Such feelings still came with a twinge of guilt, as her mind had been conditioned to reject these like a virus, but this was reducing each time she pushed against its boundaries.

"There is work to be done, Padawan. Lessons to learn and, perhaps more importantly, lessons to be unlearned. In the coming months we will train together, forging the best version of yourself possible.

"Kneel," he said, motioning to the spongy rug in the center of his office, just as he took to the floor himself.

"Close your eyes, open your mind, and hear my words. Let me show you the light."

* * *

Three months into her acceptance to the Jedi Order, Rakav was well underway in her spiritual journey. She had found the light Master Lin spoke of, and found its clarity and serenity settle into her mind and act as an undercurrent to her every thought and action. It had turned steady that which she used to carry out with haste: decision-making, judgement and even movement. Made purposeful that which she used to perform out of fear: combat, respectfulness and obedience.

While her former self might have spat at this slow tempo, through her enlightened eyes she had come to see that delivering each action with the insight of thought made it ten times stronger. She felt confident to say there was strength in inaction - at least in moderation.

And yet the slightest part of her - just a sliver - found this life of stillness and balance to be...dull.

Not boring; her thoughts were challenged each day as she learned a little more about herself. But certainly not exciting. Training to be a Sith had been stressful - terrifying at times - but there was never a moment of quiet. Tython sat on the opposite side of this extreme, and Rakav found things to be almost _too_ quiet.

The wind blew gently here, rather than viciously on Korriban. The air was still, interrupted only by the soft trickle of streams or the rustling of trees, a stark contrast to the orchestral howling of Tuk'ata and the whipping wind that filled Korriban. Most critically, ego was completely cast away by the Jedi, leaving only righteousness in its place. A noble sentiment, Rakav acknowledged, yet ego was necessary to provide personality the room to grow. Without this, how could the Jedi protect the citizens of the galaxy? It is not possible to protect that which you do not understand.

Rakav found herself on a dangerous precipice then: morally aligned with Jedi ordeals, but naturally allied with Sith fundamentals.

Under the guiding hand of Master Kerro Lin, she had learned to bring the covenants of the Jedi into her heart.

_There is no emotion, there is peace._

_There is no ignorance, there is knowledge._

_There is no passion, there is serenity._

_There is no chaos, there is harmony._

_There is no death, there is the Force._

But, there was death. Rakav had seen as much on Korriban. How could she fully accept a creed that went against what she had witnessed with her own two eyes? She wanted desperately to commit to the code, but she couldn't abandon reason to make room for its words.

_There is no ignorance, there is knowledge._

If this was the case, then she was doing the right thing by retaining her experiences from her time with the Sith. But doing so made her see flaws in what the Code taught.

_There is no chaos, there is harmony._

Korriban had been many things, but harmonious was never one of them. Did the Code only apply to societies operating within the Light Side of the Force?

Trying to balance her training as a Jedi with staying true to what she'd seen in life left her in perpetual conflict. Examining its words raised more questions than they answered. At least the Sith Code had made sense in it's hateful rhetoric. Passion certainly did fuel the strength of many of the Sith and Acolytes she'd been around on Korriban.

Wait. According to the Jedi, there was no passion. Add that to the growing list of contradictions, then.

Rakav decided to leave the philosophy for another day; she didn't have time to wrestle with her beliefs right now. The uniqueness of her induction to the Jedi Order had given the Council a clear idea of how they wanted to use Rakav to aid their cause, and they had summoned her to their chambers.

She arrived 5 minutes early, but waited a few minutes outside before knocking out of respect. When she did _rap_ on the door, it swung inwards expectantly. In front of her sat the usual formation of chairs, only the unfilled seat from her last visit was occupied by another Kel-Dor master.

"Padawan Rakav," Master Shan exclaimed as she walked in, whom she now knew to be Grand Master Satele Shan, "thank you for coming to us."

The courtesy of even the senior Jedi was still something Rakav was getting used to, and once more she found it elicit a smile from her.

"We wanted to speak with you in person about the trajectory of your training."

One thing was ubiquitous among the Sith and Jedi: they both cut straight to the matter at hand.

"Master Lin tells us that your progress has been commendable so far. Remember to always act with the Jedi Code guiding your arm, and you will find its tenants healing wounds the galaxy over.

"Its words are what I judge all wisdom against, Grand Master."

Rakav's words caused a collective look of satisfaction to pass between the Council members. Maybe they were a _touch_ easier to fool than she'd assumed.

"As they should," Satele confirmed with a kind smile.

"We believe you're now ready to be fully initiated into the Jedi Order. To be given a role in our ranks, so that you may understand how to help us end this war with the Sith and return peace to the galaxy."

"That is all I wish, Grand Master." Rakav replied, speaking truthfully now.

Satele Shan nodded understandingly.

"It is because of this that we would like to train you in a different way to our other students. We've spoken about how you can best serve the Force, and would ask your permission to lean on the advantages your unique disposition as a Pureblood affords you. That is, absolute trust in the Imperial ranks.

"For only you can impersonate a Sith Lord with absolute realism, and walk among the Imperials like you are one of their leaders."

Grand Master Shan's words hit Rakav like a vibrosword in her guts. It carried the unwelcome nostalgia of pain and fear - emotions she had started to forget - as Rakav pictured herself returning to the grips of the Empire. It was the exact situation she'd come to Tython to escape, yet now she was being asked to willingly return to the bloodthirsty circus that passed for the Imperial army's front lines.

Her anxiety must have been visible, at least through the Force, to the Council members as Satele was quick to speak again.

"We would only ask this of you if you consent, Padawan. It is entirely your choice. If you agree, you would be serving the Republic and the Jedi to an exceptional level. You will receive additional training from the masters around you, including myself, to equip you with all you'd need to infiltrate Imperial ranks."

"We understand it is a lot to ask." she continued, and Rakav genuinely believed the empathy that was clear in her eyes, which lay in a haunting shade between bright green and pale blue.

"But we ask it of you, as it is a chance for us to majorly influence the war with minimal casualties. All it takes is one command from you posing as a Sith Lord to throw a planetary invasion into disarray, saving countless lives and setting the Imperial military back weeks in progress; a single command not to execute prisoners to save thousands of innocent souls. You are _uniquely_ poised to bring this to the Republic."

Though the empathy in Master Shan's eyes appeared real, Rakav couldn't help but feel this was a more pressured pitch than should come from a Jedi. There was a guilt trip woven into Grand Master's words, no matter how pure her intention was, and it tasted too similar to something one of the Korriban overseers would have said.

All the same, she recognized the impact she could have on the galaxy in this position. Moreover, that whispering voice in the back of her mind raised the point that this role of intrigue may fill the absence of excitement Rakav found in the life of a Jedi. To deceive and fool for the purpose of good: was that not the perfect fusion of what she wished for? Wasn't a well-placed lie here and there a much less turbulent route to peace than battle after battle?

Realizing this made it easy for Rakav to utter her response to the Jedi Council.

"I would be honored to accept this training. I journeyed here to make a difference in the galaxy, and I'm grateful that you're giving me the chance to do that."

The Jedi Council were as adept at masking their emotions as anybody in the galaxy, yet Rakav was sure a collective sigh of relief unfolded between them as the Grand Master spoke again.

"Very good, Padawan," she said. "For now, continue training with Master Lin. We will call on you when it is time to begin your specialist training.

"May the Force be with you," she finished, signalling that all that needed to be said had been.

* * *

Once ample time had passed for Rakav to be well clear of the door, Grand Master Satele Shan crossed her hands together and let out a deep sigh. She was conflicted on her decision. To lie and deceive was not a value supported by the Jedi, even when it led to victory. The lines of right and wrong became blurred in war. Satele battled this conundrum daily. She knew it was imperative for the Jedi to remain guardians of the light, even as the light was waning. But it felt like each time she tried to push against the darkness, she pushed against the Jedi's morals a little further.

As she often did when burdened with a problem, Satele turned to the Jedi code. Its calming words brought a mental clarity to her.

_There is no emotion, there is peace._

Recalling the Jedi mantra, Satele knew she had made the right choice.

Even though it was hard not to feel protective of Rakav, the Pureblood had expressed the wish to become a Jedi. This meant serving the galaxy and its citizens above all else, sacrificing personal passions and emotions for the good of others. The path Satele had in mind for her would do exactly that. The moral issue surrounding Padawan Rakav all fit together, in its own nuanced way.

Some members of the council were unable to see what Satele did, however.

Master Bella Kiwiiks was the first to break the silence.

"This isn't the Jedi way," she stated once again, repeating the dissent she'd made clear as the first tracings of this plan had been conceived.

"She will be serving the Republic as effectively as she can." Satele countered. "A Sith Pureblood in the ranks of the Jedi is a great boon for us. She will be able to accomplish what would otherwise take a whole score of Jedi to achieve. The lives she could save…"

Satele trailed off. Thinking about the war always brought pain to her heart. So many good Jedi, many of whom she had mentored, had been lost already.

_There is no emotion, there is peace._

She continued.

"In times of war especially, it is our duty to safeguard the citizens of each world in our protection. Rakav shouldering this risk… she embodies the self-sacrifice _intrinsic_ to the Jedi."

Satele saw her words had warded off Master Kiwiik's reserves this time, but she was sure the Togruta master would object again.

However, it was Master Gnost-Dural that spoke up instead.

"But would we sacrifice our ideals? We must not forget our duty, Satele. We preserve peace. Dispatching an infiltrator to planets outside of Republic jurisdiction tests the definition of that mandate." he said calmly.

To Satele's right, the rumbling voice of Master Tol Braga rose up to contest Master Dural.

"Our duty to preserve peace extends across the galaxy, Master Gnost-Dural. We cannot abandon a star system to the Empire's cruelty just because it lies outside our jurisdiction. Nor can we turn away from a solution that could save untold lives because it does not lie directly in accordance with the Code. Padawan Rakav may be set to have more impact on the state of the galaxy than any other Jedi we have in training. Surely such a gift from the Force must be used as frequently as possible."

_"Used?"_ Master Orgus Din challenged, one eyebrow raised.

"A slip of the tongue", Master Braga added hastily, before continuing.

"The Grand Master presented this duty to her: it was the Padawan's decision to accept. Rakav came here to help improve the galaxy. The prospect that Satele has presented is the ultimate manifestation of this."

Master Orgus seemed unsettled, but did not object further.

Satele suspected the masters that weren't completely in favor of Rakav's path would need to see her success before warming to the path laid before her. For both the sake of the war and the Council, Satele knew they would need to train Rakav with a rare alacrity for their Order; the galaxy wilted with each day the war waged on, and Satele saw in Rakav a chance to expedite the conflict's end.

She knew with certainty that the Padawan would play a significant role in the future of the Jedi: the Force told her as much. What she couldn't see, however, was whether that role would be for good, or for bad.

* * *

Walking through the halls of the Jedi Temple and back towards her master's office, Rakav was still trying to make sense of what the Council had offered her. It seemed odd to receive such an assignment from the Jedi Council; it sounded more like something she'd have been given on Korriban. The Jedi usually acted as the galaxy's shield; becoming their sole offensive arm may have been a _bit_ more action than Rakav had wished for.

She wondered, then, if she was being offered this for her rare status as an intermediate force-user, even though she was new to the Jedi. Certainly she was the most capable of all the Padawans that had joined in the same time period as her, as she had the advantage of having been exposed to the Force on Korriban.

As well as this, she hadn't developed as strong morals as the rest of the Order, as her dissection of the Code very much proved. Was this why the Council were quick to offer this major responsibility to just a Padawan? Because she was capable of acting in the grey area _between_ light and dark?

Rakav shook her head. She was thinking herself into madness. She had no qualms with carrying out the task, and with the Council's blessings she knew that any issues she found she was creating for herself.

Back in Kerro Lin's quarters, Rakav found the Twi'lek meditating on the ground, and slotted back into the familiar rhythm of her training.

* * *

It only took a week since meeting with the Jedi Council before they had summoned her back. In a secluded training room to the far east wing of the temple, Rakav stood opposite Grand Master Satele, sweat running freely down her face as her chest heaved from strained breaths. Across from her, Master Satele was the image of calm.

"Focus, Padawan. Reach out into the Force. Find the trace you leave on it, and mask it. Only then will you be able to move among the enemy like you are one of them."

Once more, Rakav tried to do what the Grand Master requested. Her eyes closed and her vision turned black, then shimmered, and then transformed into an intricate matrix displaying the room around her in its every detail: Rakav saw all from the rustle of Master Satele's robes to the air in front of her turning warm as she breathed.

Rakav focused even deeper, her head pounding as she pushed her mind to the limit. Suddenly, like breaking through the surface of an ocean to take her first clear breath, she found it.

Her signature in the Force.

It hovered in the room's atmosphere, a veritable _"here I am"_ to other Force-sensitives. Rakav honed in on it, as Master Satele had told her to do, and attempted to blanket it with the strength of her will. It remained steadfast in her first attempt, but when she pooled her remaining stamina Rakav just managed to force it out of her consciousness.

In tandem with this triumph, Rakav was wrenched from her hyper-focused state by the shouting of Master Satele.

"Yes, Rakav! You did it! Well done indeed. Concealing your Force trace is always the hardest the first time. When it comes time for your first mission, you will need to use this skill the entire time you're around Imperials. But take pride from this accomplishment for now; it is an advanced skill to learn."

Rakav nodded, still panting with exertion from her latest voyage into the Force's depths. It felt wonderful to receive praise from the Grand Master. On Korriban, the only approval she'd ever heard from the overseers was for not dying when she was sent into one of the planet's critter-infested tombs.

"Catch your breath," Satele told her. "Collect your thoughts. Then, we go again."

The next time, Rakav found her signature faster than before. The time after that, faster still. Grand Master Satele kept pushing Rakav until she could remove any trace of her visibility on the Force in a moment's notice.

Rakav became so adept in the technique that she could bury her trace in the Force while remaining cognizant in its otherworldly plains to feel _other's_ signatures on the Force. Her exploits stopped, however, when she encountered Master Satele's signature. The colossal energy of her mentor had catapulted Rakav back into reality, her mind unable to comprehend the enormity of her power.

A knowing smile on her face, Satele had said only three words in response before ending their session.

"Baby steps, Padawan."

* * *

Two weeks later, Rakav found herself in the company of Master Bela Kiwiiks. Another member of the Jedi Council, Master Kiwiiks was a reserved woman, whose every word was worth listening to like it was the last you'd ever hear.

They stood in a private training hall in one of the furthermost wings of the temple.

"Breathe, Padawan. Only with a calm interior will you be able to change your exterior. The power of invisibility is a rare skill for a Jedi to master. It requires great concentration and a unique affinity to the Force. Let nothing distract you from reaching it."

As Kiwiiks had instructed the other day, Rakav delved into the most intricate regions of the Force in an attempt to camouflage herself. Feeling her body shimmer beneath her, she began the most difficult part of the process: willing her surroundings to hug her every inch - dynamically - even as she moved. So far it had been beyond Rakav's grasp.

Determined as ever though, Rakav closed her eyes and tried again. Instantly she was transported to the hyper-aware layer of consciousness that the Force operated through. In this stage of her training, this felt as seamless as sliding on a pair of comfortable footwear.

She tried to focus on using the Force to hide her body from sight, but her mind was already working in overdrive and she fell out of her mental shell.

"I...can't do it." she managed to pant, her head swimming with exhaustion.

From behind, Master Kiwiiks rested a soft hand on her shoulder.

"The strength of a Jedi comes from within," the Togruta told her.

"When we are struggling, we remember those we serve. We put ourselves through hardship so others might live freely. We shoulder this burden willingly, content to serve a greater purpose than ourselves. Would you help us, Rakav?"

"I would, master."

"Very good. Then let us try again."

For the rest of the afternoon Rakav fought a mental battle as she tried to slip into the Force's carry. It's favor evaded her for several more hours, before finally she felt it envelop around her like the silken touch of a lavish cloak, and she saw her body vanish before her eyes. Master Kiwiiks had looked gleefully at the thin air Rakav had been standing in a moment before, her eyes conveying the pride of the Togruta Master.

Training sessions with Master Braga, Master Bakaran, and several more with Grand Master Satele all took place in the ensuing months, each adding another notch of infiltration skill to Rakav's belt. Coupled with her regular training under Master Kerro, her progress was considerable. She could now remain invisible even while walking for minutes at a time. She could cover the tracks she left on the force, and even use its influence to persuade certain beings. Her moral issues with the Jedi Code notwithstanding, she was learning.

* * *

As Rakav approached her one year anniversary since arriving on Tython, she looked back at her progress. Two months ago, she had managed to sneak invisibly into Master Kiwiiks' office and back without the Togruta ever realizing - the ultimate showcase of her proficiency in the more fickle ways of the Force.

Her combat skills had improved tenfold over the months as she practised the many nuances of using a double-bladed lightsaber. Now when she sparred her blue blades cut through the air like lightning, little more than an electric blur.

The Council had recognized her talent, and made her a Jedi Knight last month in response. The memory still overwhelmed Rakav with pride. Knelt in their presence in the Council chambers, she had felt her transformation from dark to light come to an end. Her impact on the galaxy forever set in stone as that of good.

It was in the presence of the Council that Rakav sat currently, as she watched the Grand Master reach down to touch the shoulder of her robes.

"Rise, Rakav."

Around her, Master Kiwiiks and the other masters looked on at Rakav, admiration visible on their faces.

"It is finally time. We have intel that requires investigation and, very probably, your talents."

Rakav waited intently to hear the sum of what her training had been for.

"On the planet of Belsavis, the Empire has discovered the existence of an ancient Republic prison. The planet has been kept on a need-to-know basis up to the highest levels of society for centuries, but recently it became public knowledge. The Empire discovered Belsavis with this leak and, alongside it, the opportunity to rescue some of the most dangerous Sith Lords alive.

Rakav stared at Satele with confusion.

"I'm not sure I understand, master"

Master Braga stepped in.

"Belsavis is far in the Outer Rim - remote and difficult to discover. It had been used as a Republic prison for as long as we can trace back."

"The entire planet?" Rakav gaped.

"The entire planet," the Kel-Dor confirmed.

"Those members of society that were seen as too dangerous for the confines of regular prisons were sent to Belsavis and forgotten about. Those that still live are great weapons to the enemy. As soon as the Empire discovered Belsavis they assembled a Strike Team to infiltrate the planet. They succeeded." Master Braga admitted with a shake of his head, as if he had been personally responsible for this.

"Now they have a base of operations on the planet and access to the prison units that house some of their most powerful assets. There are bounty hunters, murderers and even ancient Sith Lords housed on Belsavis."

Satele resumed speaking.

"We need you to travel to the Imperial base camp on the planet and pose as a visiting Sith Lord. Go with the backstory that you carry orders from the Dark Council. Tell anyone you encounter that you're Lord Celros, apprentice to Darth Fentos. If anyone questions you, respond angrily. That's the best way to keep your conversations short and believable as a Sith."

Rakav nodded, trying to keep her voice calm as she spoke.

"I understand Masters. What am I to do once I've reached the base?"

"Tell them you have urgent orders for the planetary fleet. We've learned that the Empire has several cruisers orbiting near the planet, on standby to swoop in should any cracks appear in our blockade. We need you to order the Imperials to break cover and charge against the planet. They'll be outnumbered as things stand, but we've positioned additional ships to attack from their rear once they've engaged our defense, just to be sure the mission will be a success."

"There is one snag, though." said Master Jaric Kaedan, the stern war veteran whose scarred face suited his personality impossibly well.

"The Empire has handed control of this particular conquest to the Imperial Guard. Though they aren't Force sensitive, members of the Imperial Guard are hand-picked by the Emperor himself. They are his to command: his impenetrable shield...or indomitable weapon, depending on his mood. For this reason, they cannot be underestimated."

Master Kaedan's warning left apprehension churning in her chest. The Grand Master was quick to make it evaporate though with her next instruction.

"There lies the crux of your mission, Rakav. You must convince the planetary force to order the aerial attack without drawing the attention of the Imperial Guard. They would not accept orders from a Sith Lord they don't recognize without good reason. They will dig into your disguise if you approach them, and are more than capable of unearthing your chicanery.

"Fortunately for us, the Imperial Guard wears red robes to distinguish their high position in the Empire. Simply avoid these, and your mission will go undisturbed. You can draw the fleet out of hiding prematurely and have left before the Empire even knows what happened. "

Master Braga stepped in once again to summarise.

"In one stroke, you'd cripple the Empire's plans for Belsavis."

There it was. Her first mission. Where the faint remnants of fear smouldered from her time accepting orders in the Sith Academy, Rakav found a resolute sense of purpose and responsibility in her task. This was meaningful work. Vital work, even. It rested on her shoulders and her ability to complete her mission to prevent untold horrors being released back into the galaxy.

It was, she realized, exactly what she had joined the Jedi to do.

"I understand, masters. Infiltrate the planet, find the base camp, avoid red robes and order the fleet to move."

Satele's slowly bobbing head signalled Rakav had it correctly.

"I will leave at once," she told the Council, eager to get to work. Satele nodded.

"We have prepared a shuttle for you. Inside you'll find Sith robes and a red lightsaber. These will help you blend in around the basecamp. We don't expect you to need to break your cover; the guise of a Sith Lord will be all the access you need."

Rakav bowed once, and then left the chambers towards the top-floor landing pad that managed travel in between the Temple and the orbital station.

The journey to Belsavis was long. Travelling from the Core to the Outer Rim would take two days at least, so Rakav entrusted the piloting to the ship's onboard autopilot and spent the journey meditating and preparing herself for her first time blending in amongst real Imperials. She thought of her Jedi teachings, picking out each learning point and failure she'd experienced and pocketing it. Those areas that had been incomplete in the past she would replace with preparation. A single hole in her persona on the surface could have her killed, and months of preparation would turn to ash. She could not allow this. Not with so much depending on her.

In the cover of nightfall and to the symphony of an icy chill in the wind, her small shuttle zipped through Belsavis' clouds and into the atmosphere below. Rakav took in the view from the wide, curving viewport at the shuttle's front. A thick clearing had been carved into the glacial surface below, located in the area of planet where the harrows of winter merged with the gifts of summer to produce a geological metropolis. Rakav had never seen a planet's climate change so drastically and so quickly as it did on Belsavis, but was pleased to see her destination was the much warmer-weathered side.

The Imperial base loomed here, a cordoned-off section of the landscape hidden behind high walls. There was one small landing point on the base's rear, and as the shuttle cruised in to land and the landing gear hissed downwards, Rakav began to prepare. Eyes closed and focusing inward, she immersed herself in the Force, detecting her own trace on it. With a nudge she shut it down, becoming invisible to any other force-users. She maintained this anonymity as she exited the shuttle, making a byline straight to the command bunker and wearing an expression as frigid as the frosts she'd flown over.

The first thing she noticed when she stepped off the shuttle was the cold. Biting and invasive, it made quick work penetrating Rakav's clothing and racking her with chills all over. Having spent the last year in the evergreen fields of Tython, such an entrance was a harsh reminder of the real world. Her robes did little to ward off the cold. Rakav could almost hear the overseers on Korriban telling her to embrace discomfort. To find strength in her pain, and use it to fuel her body's anger.

But such a fix was temporary. Shrouding oneself in anger would burn away the cold, and so much else with time, until that person had nothing _but_ anger left in them.

Instead, Rakav steadied her breathing that the brutal wind had turned ragged and opened herself up to the Force. It flowed through her, restoring her stamina and focusing her resolve.

_No distractions_ as Master Kiwiiks would have said. The cold was the first - Rakav doubted it would be the last.

As she entered the camp's bunker the density of Imperial troops doubled. It was clearly the hub in this area, though whether this was for tactical reasons or the more selfish desires of some time in the warmth or a visit to the cantina, she couldn't say.

Her presence among the troops didn't go unnoticed. Dark helmets customary of the Imperial army turned with every few steps she took, quickly taking in the situation before turning back around, as though they were afraid of being caught staring.

Feeling exposed, Rakav made an effort to twist her features even further into a poisonous glower, though she had little confidence in its authenticity. Nevertheless, she made it through the ranks of Imperial troops undisturbed, although she had yet to encounter a Sith yet. Her disguise wouldn't be truly tested until she did.

Rakav paced into the central chamber of the bunker and asked about the base's hierarchy at the nearest guardpost. The young Private stumbled over his words as he spoke, but she managed to discern that second in command to Commander Calum was an Imperial war hero named Major Bandera. Remembering to play the part of an aloof Sith Lord, Rakav merely scoffed at the private like he'd wasted enough of her time already and spun around with an intensity belonging to a Nar Shaddaa show performer before stalking off to seek the Major.

She found him not much later in a cramped office at the rear of the bunker after demanding information from another two unfortunate Imperial troopers on her way.

He was a thin man, with greying features and bags under his eyes. Rakav didn't see a war hero; all she saw was a man at his wit's ends, crushed by years and years of the relentless hammering of war.

He eyed Rakav over the mound of paperwork that punctuated his desk. O_verwhelmed_ his desk would be more accurate. Rakav bizarrely found herself thinking of the Sith Code when she saw this. The Sith preached that power ultimately led to freedom and the breaking of one's chains. If only they could see the Major's office, they would see the sort of prison cell that awaits the powerful: one of duty, and inescapable responsibility.

She was thrown back into the moment by the piercing stare of the Major, which showed none of the physical age that racked his body. It gripped suspicion and surprise in its gravity.

"My lord, how can I help you? We weren't expecting another of you so soon."

"Major. My master, Darth Fentos, has sent me to oversee this critical part of our invasion. The Belsavis takeover is nearing its final stage. We are at the end game, if you will, and the Dark Council is most keen to see it executed smoothly."

Taking a second to pause, Rakav latched onto the second half of the Major's sentence.

"And what do you mean 'another of you'"?

The Major's features creased again.

"Another Sith, of course. We had an apprentice hail us not half an hour ago requesting landing. They never said there would be two of you. Is something wrong?."

"Nothing is wrong," Rakav replied, trying to will authority into her words.

"It it merely a sign of the times. The Imperial Guard has performed well thus far, but now Belsavis needs a Sith presence."

Though Rakav's words sounded confident, the mention of another Sith landing imminently on Belsavis had her worried. Her window of opportunity to execute her mission unnoticed had just shrunk significantly.

With a slow nod, the Major accepted her story.

"Very well, my lord. We are open to any orders from the Dark Council."

"Then let us begin as we mean to go on. Command the fleet to engage the Republic's blockade. The time to strike is now."

"My lord?" The Major gasped in shock. "We don't have the numbers."

"All has been planned out," she replied sternly, making sure her voice warned against further refusal.

"But...Commander Calum said we were to wait until the Six were extracted before calling in the fleet."

_The Six?_ Rakav thought. That sounded ominous. If these Six were glorious enough to warrant a fleet for extraction, then they must be valuable indeed. She decided to play along.

"The Six are of vital importance Major. The Dark Council has orchestrated this plan with their escape at the forefront. Engage the fleet."

His eyes still displayed distrust, but the rest of the Major's facial features folded into mute acceptance. He rounded on his heels, his polished boots sending a shrill _squeak_ down Rakav's spine as he pressed the intercom button on his desk. A small blue figure appeared a moment later; a human female who was surely the commander of the fleet above.

"Making contact, Admiral." the Major said.

"Hearing you loud and clear, Major. How are things planetside?"

"Things are...accelerating. We have had an emissary from the Dark Council arrive at the base. It is their wish that the fleet attacks now."

The Admiral on the other end of the line let out a weird noise, something like a choked laugh.

"You're joking, right? We're waiting for the strike team to signal that they're ready. They're meant to cause enough chaos down on the surface that we can overwhelm the fleet with a frontal assault. We're the _backup_, Bandera, not the primary force."

Though it clearly didn't sit well with the Major, he made his next point with total conviction.

"You are what the Dark Council says you are! Just like we are. You have your orders. The representative said there was a plan. You probably have reinforcements coming from another sector this very moment."

Rakav heard something truly pitiful in the Major's voice. It was worse than the sound of a lie made for personal gain. It was the croaky sound of a lie made for personal _preservation_. Deep down, he knew there were no reinforcements coming. He knew he was sending the Admiral to her destruction. She knew it, too, if the quality of the holo could be trusted to portray her features correctly.

And yet the Major hadn't hesitated. He would rather send thousands to their death than contest a single Sith Lord. His indifference chilled Rakav to her very core.

In the uncomfortable silence that followed, Rakav become aware that a show of force was needed to cement the command's authority. Although it fought with every nerve in her body, she stepped in front of the holo projector and addressed the doomed Admiral.

"Admiral, this is Lord Celros. Major Bandera carries _my orders_. Did you have an issue you wished to discuss with me?"

If fear could be painted in blue wavering static, Rakav was witnessing it right now. The Admiral's mouth hung open as she gaped at Rakav, and she knew she had forced the poor woman into a corner.

"No, my lord. No issue. We will engage the Republic within the hour once our fighters mobilize."

"Very good, Admiral. Glory to the Empire." She said as a parting remark before flicking the holo channel off to not give the Admiral any time to seek a correction in the orders from Major Bandera.

She turned back around to face the Major, seeing that same petrified look in his eyes that had been present in the Admiral. Though her heart throbbed, Rakav cast him one final look of disdain before storming out of his chambers in a swirl of dark robes.

Having cleared the Major's office and with the knowledge that his own cowardice had sealed the mission's success, Rakav fled the bunker as quickly as she could without drawing attention to herself. Her time here was over.

A few soldiers dropped bows as they passed, but generally she was able to leave the encampment without recognition. There was an alarm wailing somewhere down the hall from her, and several of the beings around her had broken into a run towards it. The alarm became explained a moment later when Bandera's voice was broadcast around the base over a powerful tannoy system.

"This is base command ordering all available pilots to head to the hangar. Ready starfighters and await orders from your squad leader. I repeat, all available pilots to the hangar immediately."

Rakav's presence become an underthought amidst the chaos in the bunker.

"Are we attacking the Reps?" one helmeted pilot shouted as he ran past Rakav.

"We must be _getting attacked_. We've had no warning about this," another yelled back from behind her.

Rakav was glad the pilots were wearing helmets. She was unsure if she could see the faces of two beings she had sent to their doom.

Once she'd exited the crowds inside the bunker and was away from the ringing alarm, the rest of Rakav's journey to the landing pad was much smoother.

She passed through the edge of the camp's walls in silence, not wanting to disturb the soldiers sleeping. In the darkness she was but another shadow on the fabric of their tents, and it was all too easy to reach her landing platform in peace.

When she arrived, however, she discovered another shuttle next to hers. Its lights were turned on, and the boarding ramp was extended.

From the light bleeding from the entranceway, Rakav saw a shape moving down the ramp. Like her, it was clothed entirely in black. As the form approached Rakav saw that it was a male Zabrak in an armored robe top and bottom. Zabraks were a race of horn-headed humanoids, whose skin was typically a canvas of black and yellow or black and red. This Zabrak was black and red, and approached her with a swagger.

"I was not expecting Sith reinforcements, my lord. Who are you?"

"I am Lord Celros. My master has sent me here to report on Belsavis for him."

Now right next to each other, Rakav could see the Zabrak's expression close up, and she saw he was confused.

"Don't I know you?" he asked bluntly. Rakav's head spun. Had she been discovered?

"I don't know you," she shrugged. "If you'll excuse me, I must leave."

The Zabrak shook his head, eyes squinting.

"I'm sure I know you…"

His eyes lit up.

"You're the deserter! We trained together on Korriban. You vanished after I joined - everyone said you left us to run away. What happened to you?"

Rakav had planned much of what could go wrong, but ghosts from her past was one contingency she had not expected. She panicked, and reeled off by the best worded excuse she could conjure.

"I moved to another Sith facility to train in other disciplines, before coming back to Korriban shortly after."

"No you didn't," the Zabrak said, shaking his head.

"I was at the Academy six months after you vanished and I never saw you come back."

His eyes narrowed even further.

"Why do you mask yourself in the Force? What are you hiding?"

From the Zabrak's expression Rakav could tell he was trying to detect her in the Force, and she had no idea how to stop it. It was only when the Zabrak's hand dropped to his lightsaber and ignited it that Rakav realized he'd sensed her true nature.

His crimson blade speared the night, illuminating the darkness. Rakav rushed to do the same, producing her blade just in time and raising it to meet the Zabrak's in a blossoming of red. But the Jedi Council had provided her with a one-bladed lightsaber, and it felt incomplete and clumsy in Rakav's grip. Beneath the steady onslaught her opponent began attacking with, Rakav had to step back into a staggered retreat to evade his strikes. She stumbled into some space clear of the Zabrak and reaffirmed her stance. When he struck next, she was ready for him.

Rakav engaged his lightsaber with the calm accuracy she had been trained in, intercepting wherever it seeked whilst staying vigilant to any weaknesses that opened up in his defense. She may have been using an unfamiliar weapon, but the Zabrak was a newer learner to the Force, and his strikes lacked precision. More crucially, he made the mistake of seeing the fight with his eyes, rather than feeling it in the Force. Restricted by this handicap, it took only a matter of seconds for the opening Rakav was looking for to come in the form of an overly-aggressive slash that left his left side unprotected.

Instantly she pounced, side-stepping his bumbling swing and positioning herself so she could drive her lightsaber through his unprotected abdomen. The instant it punctured his skin it bore a sizzling hole that burned a vibrant orange in the darkness, and the Zabrak howled in pain. For an instant he looked all the more dangerous, his eyes a roaring furnace as they met Rakav's, and she feared he might rally behind the agony.

But she pushed deeper, feeling her lightsaber melt away his innards as it traveled, extinguishing the fire that had burned so fleetingly in his eyes.

His limp corpse collapsed onto her, and she stumbled under its weight. She felt emotions within her she couldn't quite diagnose, but knew she'd have to deal with them later. For now, she needed to get back onto her shuttle before the Imperial fleet she'd just duped began to mobilize and unleashed their might against the planet. Her part was done. She just needed to escape unseen.

It was a struggle to drag the dead weight of the Zabrak even the few metres needed to place him in the hull of her shuttle, and by the time Rakav reached the pilot's seat she was breathing heavily as lines of perspiration ran down her face. She couldn't say exactly why she'd brought the Zabrak onboard. Perhaps it was the smartest way to hide her involvement on Belsavis. Or perhaps she couldn't bear to leave him alone and in the dark. He'd lived that way in life; surely he deserved better in death.

She blasted off into the sky, carrying her bloody deed with her. As she exited the Belsavis atmosphere and returned to the boundless void of space, Rakav noticed an influx of Imperial dreadnoughts drop out of hyperspace towards the planet. She veered her course to stay well away from them as she primed her own hyperdrive engine, but hovered long enough to see them to light up her cockpit with tide after tide of red jets, streaking through space like angry droplets of blood. The Republic blockade answered back with its own might, and for every one red laser that filled the sky there were two green jets in response. The battle had only just begun and it already looked like a Republic rout, as two of the Imperial dreadnoughts caught fire at their bow.

The Imperial fleet wouldn't be reaching Belsavis, she was glad to see.

Hyperdrive primed and ready, Rakav eased on the stick and inputted the coordinates to take her back to Tython.

All throughout the journey, Rakav tried to process her murder of the Zabrak. The closeness to death...the energy she'd watched ebb from his eyes - these had been the horrors she'd tried to leave behind on Korriban.

Now she found herself administering the dark, all in the name of good.

It made her feel uneasy. Like she couldn't place who she was, because she couldn't see where she fit on the spectrum of good and evil. She was certainly not a Sith anymore. But could she truly call herself a Jedi? If the planets she touched bled in her wake, was she truly an agent of grace?


End file.
